


A Birthday To Remember

by Bookgrrl



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Sex, Birthday Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Future, One Shot, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 20:44:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3302876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookgrrl/pseuds/Bookgrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shot written for the Sunday Smut Spotlight on Tumblr. This week's theme: Futuristic. Time frame: six years in the future.</p><p>So, this is a smutty little smut all stuffed with smut about poor Tom, alone on his 40th birthday. He's just wrapped up post-production on yet another project and is having a well deserved drink at a local bar. In walks Sam, an intriguing legal aide from the film's production company. Add booze, and stir. Things get heated fast... Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Birthday To Remember

“Jameson, please, no ice.” Tom bellied up to the bar of yet another nameless pub, exhausted and in dire need of a drink. They’d finally wrapped post-production on his latest project and he had a blessed few hours of rest before his plane left for London early the next morning. When he’d asked some of the local crew where he could go for peace and quiet, they’d recommended this place. So he’d taken their advice and grabbed a cab across town and now here he was.

The bartender slid his glass in front of him. “That’ll be five dollars.”

Tom pulled out a twenty and passed it to the guy. “Bring me another, then keep the change.” He removed the sunglasses he always seemed to wear in public these days and pushed back the hood of his sweatshirt. “And thank you.”

“No problem.” The burly bartender’s gaze narrowed. “Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?”

 _Shit_. He loved his fanbase, really he did, but couldn’t a guy catch a break? Especially on his birthday?

Not one to be rude, Tom smiled and sipped his whiskey. “Perhaps.”

“You famous or something?” The guy leaned a heavily tattooed arm on the bartop.

“Or something.” Eager to steer the topic of conversation away from himself, Tom noted the man’s name on the front pocket of his T-shirt. _Rodney_. From the topless women, snakes, and skulls adorning the bartender’s flesh, he made an educated guess about the man’s interests. “You ride, Rodney?”

“Not since my last arrest. Bastards fined me more than my fucking bike was worth so I had to sell it. Hope to get it back someday though.” The bell above the entry door rang, indicating more patrons had arrived and Rodney straightened. “Gotta go, but I’ll be back with your next shot soon.”

“Thanks, man,” Tom said. He hoisted his glass to the bartender’s retreating back, then huddled farther down inside his hoodie. _Forty_. He’d turned forty today and though he’d achieved much of what he’d initially set out to do in his career, there were a few areas of his life that were still on hold—namely the personal one.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want a relationship, someone special in his life. It was just so damned hard these days. After he’d won the Oscar for his work in High Rise and another nomination for Crimson Peak, his popularity with fans and directors had reached epic proportions. He was lucky if he was in one spot more than a few months and the whole long-distance thing had never worked out well for him. So here he sat, alone, nursing his drink without a friendly soul in sight on the grand anniversary of his birth.

“Hey Rod, I’ll take my usual when you get a chance.”

A husky voice and the scent of roses drew his attention to the woman who’d taken the last available seat beside him at the now packed bar. He couldn’t see her face, hidden as it was by a fall of dark red hair, but he recognized her from the film’s production office. She was one of the legal aides. They’d met briefly at the start of the shoot, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember her name.

“Sure thing, Sam.” Rodney waved to the woman from the other end of the bar. “Be right with you.”

 _Sam_. Right. Now it came back to him. The girl with a man’s name.

She glanced at him and Tom looked away fast, but not before noting her warm brown eyes and heart-shaped face. Pink lips, soft and full. He took a deep breath and frowned down into the swirling dark liquor left in his glass. He could feel the exact moment she turned her attention elsewhere, as if her gaze had been a physical caress.

Despite his desire for privacy, he couldn’t seem to help giving her some serious side-eye from beneath his lashes. Based on her posh appearance, she looked as out of place in this hellhole as a diamond in a turd farm. Yet she seemed completely at ease here, at home, even. The dichotomy fascinated almost as much as the gentle swell of her breasts straining against the buttons of her top.

 _Christ_. What the hell was wrong with him? Tom shook his head and downed the remainder of his first drink. She wasn’t some piece of meat for him to ogle, no matter how long it had been since his last fuck.

“Here ya go, Sam.” Rodney placed an empty shot glass and a bottle of Jack in front of her then hiked his chin in Tom’s direction. “You ready for your next, buddy?”

“Yes, please.” He waited until the bartender departed again then returned his covert attention to the intriguing woman at his side. He’d expected her to get white wine, maybe some frou-frou concoction with fruit juice and rum, like his little sister Emily used to order. Instead, she currently downed a healthy portion of hard liquor in one swallow then refilled her glass for another. He hadn’t seen a woman drink like that since Scarlett and Kat at the last Avengers wrap party.

And nothing turned him on more than a gal who could hold her liquor.

As if reading his thoughts, the woman looked at him again, this time catching his eye and refusing to let go. “See something you like?”

Stunned, Tom fidgeted on his stool, heat creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. “Um…”

She tossed back her second shot, set the glass on the bar, then held out her hand. “Sorry. I’m not usually that ballsy. It's been one of those days. We met before, by the way. I’m Sam.”

“Tom.” He wasn’t sure which surprised him more, the strength behind her grip or the fizz of sexual awareness said grip caused. He gave her what he hoped was a polite smile. “And I completely understand.”

He released her fast and cleared his throat, shifting slightly to ease the pressure building in his suddenly too-tight jeans. Rodney dropped off his second Jameson then headed away to help another round of customers. Finding himself strangely at a loss for words, Tom said the first thing that popped into his mind. “So, do you come here often?”

_Lame, lame, lame. Lamest fucking line ever, you wanker._

If Sam noticed at all, however, she didn’t show it. Instead, she just smiled. “Whenever I’m in town I try to stop by. I grew up around here.”

His brain had snagged on her crooked grin and stuck there. An insatiable urge to drag her off her seat and into his lap had Tom gripping his glass tight.

 _Keep it together, mate_. Never mind the gorgeous woman who’d practically dropped right into his lap like some birthday manna from heaven. They’d really just met for Christ’s sake. He knew nothing about her and vice versa.

Still, as the booze drizzled into his system, his inhibitions lifted.

And, if the hand she laid on his arm was any indication, hers too.

Sam leaned closer, her sweet scent of flowers and liquor and feminine arousal intoxicating his senses. “Can I tell you a secret?”

He turned, almost close enough to taste her, yet maddeningly too far away. “Anything, love.”

His pulse tripped as she traced a finger up his arm and into his hair. “I might have mentioned to the crew that this would be a good place for you to come tonight.”

“You did?”

“Uh huh.” Her seductive smile grew downright lethal. “Wanna know something else?”

He nodded, silent, entranced.

“You’re hot.”

“I am?” Tom coughed to clear the uncomfortable squeak from his voice. He’d always just accepted his looks as a part of him and moved on. After all, he had no say in the matter of his genetics. But, at that moment, he’d never been so glad in all his life that the opposite sex found him attractive. He grinned and leaned into her touch. “You’re pretty adorable, yourself.”

A pretty pink flush had risen in her cheeks and her eyes had turned dreamy and a tad glassy from the alcohol. Tom didn’t imagine his own were in any better shape.

Woozy and warm, he couldn’t remember being this turned on in recent memory. He shifted to face her and did what he’d been dying to do since she sat down beside him—placed his hand on her thigh. The hem of her skirt had ridden up slightly, so there was plenty of luscious flesh available. The heat of her drove his excitement higher, but he wasn’t into power games of the forced variety. If this was going to happen, it needed to be by mutual consent.

She squirmed beneath his touch and placed her other hand on his chest, wadding the material in her fist and tugging him forward until mere inches separated them. “I want you.”

He turned away and downed his second Jameson in one gulp before answering. “Are you sure, darling?”

“Never. Been. More. Sure. In. My. Life.” Each of her words were punctuated with a movement. She slapped a fifty on the bar, grabbed his hand, then her purse, and pulled him step-by-step toward a darkened corner in the back of the pub. “There used to be a storage room back here. Sure would come in handy right about now.”

Tom trailed behind her, admiring the sway of her hips beneath her tight black skirt. At least he’d still had sense enough to pull up the hood of his sweatshirt before she’d hauled him off, allowing him some measure of anonymity. Good thing too, since the tent in the front of his jeans could’ve poked someone’s eye out if he wasn’t careful.

After what seemed like an eternity weaving through the now packed area, they reached a short hallway and an unlocked supply room. Shelves full of boxes lined the space and not much else. They hustled inside and he fumbled to lock the door behind them.

The green light of a glowing Exit sign provided all the illumination they needed as she maneuvered him up against the wall and pressed her body against his. “I’m gonna fuck you into next week, Mr. Hiddleston. What do you think about that?”

Her girlish giggle was his undoing. To answer her question, he cupped her face in both hands and covered her mouth with his. She responded eagerly, hot and ready and wanton. Her lips parted and she met his tongue, thrust for thrust, as if dueling for control.

He moaned deep in his throat, switching their positions and taking over. With her against the wall, held there with his hands and body, he went to work on the buttons of her top. She felt so soft, so giving beneath his fingers. Her whimpers of pleasure as he yanked her blouse open and kneaded her breasts through the satin cups of her bra threatened to send him over the edge.

 _This_. This was what he’d craved since leaving the film set. Hell, if he was honest, this was what he’d craved since his last relationship had ended the year prior. Physical closeness, physical touch, physical release.

“I want…” Her hands tugged at his sweatshirt and he removed it and his T-shirt all at once before crushing his naked chest against her—heat on heat, skin on skin.

He slipped his fingers inside her bra and toyed with one erect nipple. “What, darling? Tell me what you want.”

“You. I want you.” She reached for the waistband of his jeans, undid the button, then dipped her fingertips inside to graze the aching head of his cock. “Now.”

Tom groaned low, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away, pinning her hand to the wall beside her head. “Not yet, love.” As badly as he wanted her, that touch could end it all. And he wanted this to last as long as possible. He kissed her again, long and slow and deep, savoring the flavor of her—rich whiskey and sinful desire.

He let her wrist go and ground his hips into hers, torturing himself with her tempting curves. Slowly, he slipped the hem of her skirt higher. Lifted her thigh around his waist and traced his fingers over the front of her now exposed panties. Her arousal had already soaked through the delicate lace and it took every ounce of will he had not to fall on his knees before her and feast on her like a starving man. Instead, he stroked her while using his other hand to unhook the front clasp of her bra.

Once her generous breasts were free, he sucked one nipple into his mouth and hazarded a glance at her face. With her eyes closed and her lips open in a silent gasp, she looked like a naughty fantasy come to life. He inched a finger beneath the side of her panties to touch her wet folds.

“Oh!” Her gaze locked with his, wide and greedy. “More.”

After removing her panties all together, he set about putting his long fingers to good use—two pumping within her tight channel and his thumb drawing lazy circles around her swollen clit. Within seconds, she bucked hard against him, her hands tangled in his hair.

“Oh, God, Tom. Yes. Yes. Oh, yeah. Right there. Oh God, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna… Oh… Oh! Shit yes!” Sam arched against him, and he switched his attention to her other pretty pink nipple while she convulsed around his fingers.

At last, she stilled against him. He pulled his digits slowly from her heat and brought them to his mouth, licking them clean as she watched.

Before he’d finished, she’d pulled them away and kissed him deeply. “Please, Tom, fuck me now.”

His cock was so hard it hurt but he refused to rush. He’d waited so goddamned long. He dug in the back pocket of his jeans for the condom he always kept just in case. “Let me…”

“Oh no.” She slid down from around his waist and her hands returned to his waistband. “Let me.”

Before he could react, she’d dropped to her knees on the concrete floor and unzipped his pants. She reached up and took the condom from him then shoved his jeans and underwear to his ankles. His hard cock sprang free and between the shock of the cool air and her firm grip, he couldn’t stifle his grunt. Soon, she’d wrapped one hand around the thick base of him and engulfed the tip of his dick within her warm, wet mouth.

He lost all focus except for the feeling of her tongue against him. He slid his fingers into her soft red hair and tried his damnedest to keep from thrusting too deep.

At last, she pulled away and gave his tip one final kiss before rolling on the condom. She gave him a wry grin. “Sorry, but I can’t wait any longer.”

If the delicious way his sex pounded in time with his racing pulse was any indication, neither could he. “Right, darling.”

He laughed as he helped her up and turned her away from him to face the wall. He positioned her with her legs spread and back slightly arched then stepped between her thighs. “Ready?”

“God yes!”

He buried himself within her in one long thrust then held steady, his front pressed to her back, his breath hot on the nape of her neck. He could barely form words what with the tight heat of her squeezing around him so perfectly, but he managed to say, “Feel good?”

She growled and rotated her hips against him in response. What was left of his restraint crumbled and soon he pounded into her for all he was worth, each stroke bringing them both that much closer to blessed ecstasy.

Outside, the voices of the patrons grew louder as a band started to play. But in here, it was just the two of them, hot and sweaty and horny as hell. Their loud breaths echoed off the close confines, the wet smack of his body against hers driving him closer and closer to the brink.

“Oh shit! I’m gonna cum again,” Sam cried, her fingers scrabbling for purchase against the cinder block wall. “Oh, God Tom! Tom!”

Her body convulsed around him once more and sent him over the edge. His grip on her hips tightened and he buried himself hilt deep in her warm depths as his body tensed. With his lips pressed tight to her ear, Tom whispered the same word over and over in an endless litany as he came, his cock pulsing deep within her. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.”

Panting, he pulled Sam back against him and held her close as they both slowly recovered. She sagged in his arms, completely relaxed and smiling.

At last, the sounds from the club beyond grew too close for comfort and he set her away from him with a gentle kiss. “Best get dressed, darling.”

“Right.” She adjusted her clothes back into shape then turned to him with a grin. “Thanks for that.”

“Uh, I think I should be the one thanking you, darling.” He smiled. “That was fantastic.”

They headed for the door, holding hands like a couple of teenagers. He just wanted to prolong the moment a bit longer. Savor the last few seconds of connection before his departure.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Mr. Hiddleston.” She leaned in and gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek. “And Happy Birthday.”

He leaned back, suspicious. “How did you know?”

Sam slipped out of the room first then turned back with a little wave. “Legal aide, remember? I’ve seen your contract.”

“Oh, right.” He pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt again and followed her out into the crowded bar. Already, the air seemed colder, less friendly without her near. He shouted to be heard above the pounding rock music onstage. “See you around?”

“Yep.” She glanced back at him over her shoulder and winked. “I’ll be working on your next picture too.”


End file.
